“She was bipolar, unresponsive to meds, haunted by things that happened before I met her.” For a beat, his gaze finds mine. “I would’ve done anything for her, but you can’t love someone out of their pain, no matter how hard you try.”

His anguish wraps around me as if it’s my own. Disquiet spreads over us like a blanket, and we’re both transported to the past, our gazes fixed on the flames, ensnared in the same trance.

Until he moves.

It’s a slight shift, his warm and solid thigh brushing mine, but it’s enough to crash land me back on this couch with him, planting me in the present.

Because that bit of contact explodes in the space between us, inching him closer, my name a raspy sigh on his lips. That tone is all gravel and need, a longing for something more weighing down his lids.

It’s powerful.

Primal.

Undeniable.

Just like when he watches me every night as I writhe against my hand.

“They’re gone, Novalee, but we’re here.” He tangles his fingers into my damp strands, and for a second, I think he’s going to kiss me.

In fact, I’m sure of it as his attention dips to my mouth. For some incomprehensible reason, I don’t know if I’d try to stop him.

Isn’t wanting two men enough? Why am I feeling these things for Oliver Whitney?

But there’s something about him that tugs at my heartstrings, even when I wish it didn’t.

Am I that mentally unstable? Or is this a rebound?

I gnaw on my bottom lip, my heartbeat stumbling. “It’s your decision whether to touch me…but I’m asking you not to.”

“I know what you’re thinking.” His hand slides free of my tangled locks. “You’ve convinced yourself that by giving in, you’ll betray Sebastian’s memory.”

“That’s not true, I don’t⁠—”

He takes me by the chin, locking me into place, making retreat impossible. “You’re allowed to want someone else. Believe it or not, it helps.”

“And you want to be that person.” There’s no question in my tone. Everything about this man screams I want you.

“Yes. If not me, then who?” He leans into me, his spicy scent invading my senses. “I know you miss him, but who else can make you feel like this?”

I lift my chin, forcing him to let go.

“Tell me, Novalee, because I know your blood’s rushing right now, causing an itch you’re dying to scratch.”

“What if it’s an itch I’ve already scratched?”

His brows furrow. “Liam?”

Silence is all he gets.

“I take it something happened before you transferred into my house?”

“Well, it sure hasn’t happened since.” Not even by my own hand. Truth is I’m not sure why I keep holding back, except…